


Coming to Terms

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-09
Updated: 2011-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones encounters Captain Jack Harkness. And himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming to Terms

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://wiccanslyr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wiccanslyr**](http://wiccanslyr.livejournal.com/) as part of the [](http://community.livejournal.com/torchwood_fest/profile)[**torchwood_fest**](http://community.livejournal.com/torchwood_fest/) Christmas fest Many thanks to my husband for the beta. Wiccanslyr, I tried to give you something I thought you might want, and I'm sorry if that didn't work.

The first time he sees Captain Jack Harkness is when he passes Yvonne Hartman's door on his way to have lunch with Lisa. Normally, he doesn't look in unless he's been summoned. This time, he can't _not_ look, because Yvonne is (one) at loggerheads with someone (two) who won't back down. It's too fascinating not to sneak a peek, though he won't linger. He does stop, though, because Yvonne is red-faced and he's never even imagined that.

And then there's the man with whom she is arguing, who is no less of a spectacle as he rounds on Yvonne. It is the cold, hard look in his face as he tells her that Torchwood's charter required the protection of Great Britain from alien menace, not the torturing of sentient beings, that lasers its stamp on Ianto's brain. The statement is impassioned but the eyes – bright as starlight – are almost lifeless.

Ianto is glad that a crowd has gathered, because when those eyes catch his, he is sufficiently hidden not to be recognisable. He moves on with all the others when Yvonne follows the man's gaze.

*****

The first time Ianto tries to touch Captain Harkness, it is to probe a weevil scratch to the man's neck. But even before Harkness intercepts his hand, Ianto can see that the wound has closed. He's read about Harkness, of course. He's quite sure he's managed to gain access to all the secret files, including those that were hidden from Yvonne. But seeing those recuperative powers in action for himself is very different from reading about them in a heavily protected file.

Perhaps that explains the frisson that passes through him when Harkness does deflect his hand. He can't help but notice that the gesture of taking it between thumb and forefinger has a sexy grace to it, even though it's meant to minimize contact. And even though he never touched Harkness' neck, he is now forcibly aware of the smooth perfection of the skin that covers it. Besides, the man is wearing an aftershave that would make anyone want to shag him against the nearest tree. Even one Ianto Jones, who is straight as an arrow, practically engaged, and trying desperately to save the life and soul of his partially cyber-converted girlfriend.

The first time he actually does touch Harkness, it is to stop him in his tracks and force the man to listen to his plea. And once again, Ianto notices that peculiar shying away from a hand near the neck or face. Ianto is confused, because he thought that Captain Jack Harkness would shag just about anything that got near him. He can't figure out where he's gone wrong, because everything he's read, heard and seen says that Harkness should be attempting to remove impeding garments from at least one cock, possibly even on the boardwalk of Mermaid Quay as the first few bleary-eyed citizens straggle into work at this hour. He's done everything he can to throw himself at Harkness, and it hasn't worked.

And then he alters his strategy.

The first time Ianto Jones and Captain Jack Harkness end up in each other's arms, it is painful and fun and impossible and very, very wrong, and Ianto gets up despite his hard-on and leaves, pausing only to listen to Jack Harkness telling him to report to work. He doesn't look back because he is trying not to cry. And then Jack speaks again, an in-joke between them and an invitation, and Ianto fails and doesn't want to be seen.

*****

The first time Ianto kisses Jack Harkness, it is an accident. He's been adjusting his game with his new boss, learning how to flirt without throwing himself at the man and how to put his foot down without being insubordinate. At this moment, he is leaning over Jack's shoulder to see the codes for the secure archives – just one time, Jack said, because they mustn't be copied, and Ianto has an eidetic memory – when Jack asks if he's memorised them yet. As he's mouthing the last one, he turns his head toward Jack just as Jack's turning towards him and their lips brush.

"Sorry," they both say, and, "It's all right, I—" and "It's my fault...."

And then they are snogging, and it feels so good, because Jack's lips are lush against his, and the man's frighteningly good at kissing, and Ianto hasn't had anything like it in so long. And it's the second time a man – this man – has made him hard, though he puts that down to the sex deprivation and stress that have been his life for the past few months. He's not sure how he's going to deal with the decision that must come next, but it's taken out of his hands when Suzie clears her throat at the door.

Ianto thinks he might just hate Suzie.

*****

They're searching the archives for a means to send the Fauxmingo, as Owen has dubbed him, back to his ship before he gets stressed and bursts into a million flaming, angry, pink, bipedal rodent-like creatures with very long necks and a galaxy-wide reputation for burning planets out of existence for the very slightest perturbation. They're both edgy, Jack is lashing out at everyone and Ianto is wound so tightly that he's ready to kill his boss.

And then Jack starts walking towards the door to the deeper archives – far too close to Lisa – and Ianto nearly bottles it. He reaches for his gun, even though he hates it and hasn't fired it once since it was issued to him.

Jack stops suddenly.

Ianto freezes. He always forgets about Jack's hearing.

Jack wheels around, eyes bright, and disappears into the shelving stacks. Really disappears, because Ianto can't see him, even with the torch he always carries into this section of the archives.

"Jack?"

Silence.

"Jack!"

"It's okay."

Ianto jumps a mile when Jack's voice sounds from a yard behind his shoulder.

"Perception filter-blocked area. I'd forgotten it existed, so I need to give you the code. But first...." Jack brandishes a pink abacus before organising the beads until they glow and send a blue beam towards the Fauxmingo's cell.

Ianto shuts his eyes against the painful brightness and shudders at the cry that reminds him too much of noises that Lisa makes when she's most in danger of losing her battle.

"Ianto? You can open your eyes, now. Ianto!"

Ianto looks up, blinking, swallowing his thoughts.

"It's gone. We did it!"

"We did it," Ianto echoes, staring at Jack's sparkling eyes.

Jack's expression changes. Goes feral. He lunges for Ianto.

The kiss is desperate, hungry, primal, and insanely mutual. Ianto doesn't want it to stop, even though he should. Jack's tongue is in his mouth, exploring and opening sensations in places Ianto never knew he had. Ianto gasps, opening more to Jack.

And then Jack pulls away, panting and staring into Ianto's eyes. "I've gotta put this in the deep archives—"

Ianto rips the abacus from Jack's hand and tosses it on the nearest shelf. "It can fucking wait!" He grabs Jack's braces and yanks him forward, not quite able to focus on the narrow escape he just gave Lisa. All he knows is _want_ and _need_ and _too long_ and _fucking NOW!_ His hands are on Jack's arse before he can think, and he is surrounded by Jack's scent and infiltrated by Jack's breath and pulled against Jack's _sex_.

He undoes Jack's belt, one-handed, but falters on the trouser button. He pulls his other hand around Jack's hip and pauses, breaking the kiss long enough to ask the silent question.

Jack searches Ianto's eyes and gives him a silent snarl that means _now!_ before attacking his mouth and his trousers at the same time.

Jack's hand is inside Ianto's trousers, inside his pants, on his cock, and Ianto moans and thrusts without volition, barely controlling himself as he slips his hand inside Jack's unzipped trousers and cups hot hardness through Jack's pants.

Jack hisses a breath in and pushes himself against Ianto's hand as he pushes Ianto's trousers and pants down.

Ianto gasps as his cock springs free and slaps against Jack's wrist. He pushes his hand down to cup Jack's balls – firm and full against his palm – and drag his fingers up Jack's dick, which is long, thick and pulsing against him through the cotton. And then nothing is more important in that moment than removing everything between his hand and Jack. He dips trembling fingers inside the waistband of Jack's pants and pushes them down.

The waistband catches the tip, and Jack hisses.

"Sorry," Ianto says, and then he's wrapped his hand around Jack's cock and sliding-squeezing-fisting and thrusting into Jack's fist and gasping-moaning when Jack teases his slit or plays with his balls.

Jack tries kissing him, then, but they're breathing so hard that it doesn't work.

Ianto tries to keep his eyes open, but he can't. He never can when it gets this intense. It takes him until now, as he moves faster and thrusts harder, to realise that his other hand is on Jack's face. That he can feel Jack's sex sweat. That Jack's hand is on his arm. That Jack is panting almost as desperately as he is. That his thumb is stroking over Jack's slit, and that Jack is coming and once again he _must_ look and see Jack's head thrown back in pure relief.

And then Ianto comes without warning into Jack's hand, harder than he has in more than a year, and collapses as Jack catches him.

"Thank you," says Jack, when they're sat on the floor in a heap of inconvenient limbs and they can breathe a bit.

"Tha-thank you," Ianto replies, much less steadily than he'd like.

"Any time." There's a comforting leer in Jack's voice. "You seemed like you needed it almost as much as I did."

Ianto has to pull his thoughts back into his brain. "It's ... been a while."

Jack kisses his forehead as their breathing slows to normal. "And you're good for a first-timer."

Ianto stiffens. "How'd you know?"

"Trust me, I know."

Ianto looks up at the huge grin in Jack's voice to find one on his face. It even reaches his eyes, a little. "Sorry."

"Hey, like I said, you're good." Jack gets up and offers Ianto his clean hand.

Ianto takes it and scrambles to his feet, remembering a little slowly to start putting himself back together.

Jack hands Ianto a handkerchief and leans in. "Next time, try catching it or maybe aiming it someplace more strategic." He pats Ianto's shoulder, looking pointedly at his suit coat before kissing him quickly and turning to leave. "I'll see you upstairs in ten."

Ianto flushes hot as he dabs at the trails of semen on his suit coat and tie, but his embarrassment is eclipsed by his relief that Jack has forgotten to put away the abacus. He makes a note to remind Jack to give him the code for the filtered area.

He tries not to think about how he feels about the first time he touched another man's dick.

*****

The first time Ianto starts to suspect that he might not know everything about Jack's healing powers comes at the end of a very long week.

It's late. Ianto can't remember the last time he slept for more than an hour, and that in the archives or one of the disused cells near Lisa. Everyone's on edge. Owen and Suzie are biting each other's heads off, Tosh has just pressed the wrong key at a particularly loud shout from Owen, sending the CCTV system into shutdown, and Jack—

"Everybody SHUT UP!"

The pterodactyl screeches and seeks refuge in her eyrie.

Owen and Suzie halt, mid-jab.

Tosh spins around as her hand pulls at her hair, tears in her eyes.

Ianto gazes at Jack in the bedlam of it all, forcing himself to think of Lisa instead of Jack's flashing eyes and utterly perfect skin set off by the gore splattered around the hole in the coat. It's a good thing it's a big coat, he thinks, because otherwise Jack wouldn't be standing there.

"Owen, there's a dead alien in the SUV and a live ASBO kid with a particle blast to the leg who needs specialised medical attention and retcon. Toshiko, we need a cover story for the broken window at the Norwegian Church."

"Stained glass?" Tosh asks, wiping her face and setting the CCTV system to rights.

"Yeah, and broken from the inside."

"On it."

"That's my girl. Suzie, take a look at this." Jack tosses her a metal gauntlet and sets the cruelest-looking, most intriguing dagger Ianto's ever seen on her desk. "A guy tried it on and touched a dead rat."

Suzie turns the gauntlet over in her hands. "And...?"

"Rat came back to life."

Suzie's eyes widen.

"Ianto, with me." Jack swishes into his office.

Ianto follows as the others get to work. Even so, he feels the pressure of their eyes on him.

Jack is sitting at his desk. "Shut the door." His voice is unexpectedly ragged.

Ianto finds a prickle of worry near his spine. "Privacy filter?"

Jack nods.

Ianto flips the switch that makes it impossible for others to see in. It also locks the door, which Ianto isn't as sure he can stomach. He stays very close to the switch.

"You're not in trouble." Jack starts to pull off his coat. He is slow, lacking the grace of moments before.

Ianto would quip, but Jack's difficulty makes him round the desk and offer a hand with the coat, instead.

"Thanks." Jack looks up, revealing a shirt in a worse state than the coat. "Any chance you know someone who can fix this?" He waggles a finger through the hole in his coat, which distracts Ianto from the one in his shirt.

Ianto takes a moment to smirk. "My father was a master tailor, sir. Taught me a few tricks of the trade."

A shadow of something crosses Jack's face for a split second before he smiles slightly. "Good."

"What about the shirt, sir?"

Jack shakes his head. "Just leave it. I have lots of them." He leans back in the chair and closes his eyes, his angle changing enough to let Ianto see the gaping chasm in the other side of the shirt and the healing wound underneath.

"Jack!" It's a whisper that escapes before Ianto can contain it.

Jack's eyes snap open, but he doesn't move. "You know I heal fast, right?"

"Yes." Ianto doesn't need to say it, because that knowledge became clear to both of them on first meeting.

"The others don't. Not even Owen."

"And you want to keep it that way."

"Yup." Jack closes his eyes again.

Ianto moves behind Jack on the way to hanging up the coat. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just ... stay with me. Maybe sort out my paperwork." He closes his eyes.

Ianto puts it down to insanity, but all he can think about doing is kissing the pain-sweat off Jack's brow. And then he realises that human vulnerability is something he's missed for what seems like a lifetime. It's also something he's never seen in Jack. Not like this.

So he stops as he passes behind the chair again and leans down to kiss Jack's forehead, astounded by how gently he does it. He is also a bit surprised that Jack hasn't thrown him across the room when it ends.

Jack's eyes stop Ianto from pulling away. They are searching, questioning, maybe begging. Offering.

Ianto leans down again and kisses the same place, lingering longer.

Jack breathes deeper.

Ianto kisses the bridge of Jack's nose.

Jack's breath hitches ever so slightly.

Ianto kisses Jack's nose, his chin, his mouth.

Jack's hand cups Ianto's face as his lips open slowly to Ianto's kisses.

Ianto sinks deep and slowly into the kiss. It's intimate this way. Much more so than he'd allowed himself to consider being with anyone. He hasn't even done this with Lisa. Not lingering like this. Not comforting like this. Not being comforted like this.

"Ianto...."

Ianto follows the entreaty and slides down to take Jack in his arms, careful to avoid the wound that still hasn't closed. Jack seems off kilter, somehow, perhaps a bit clingy. It's probably due to the injuries and exhaustion of the day, but it's still unexpected, and touches Ianto too close to where Lisa lives. He puts her in a safe place and lets himself feel for Jack. He tells himself that it's the first time. He insists that it's also the last.

*****

There were too many firsts to count on the day that Lisa died. It was the first time that Ianto was complicit in a murder. The first time he punched his boss. The first time he failed a mission. The first time he experienced Jack's cruelty. The first time he died. The first time he was brought back to life. The first time he wished Lisa dead. The first time he betrayed his country, his team, his girlfriend, his – Jack. The first time he hated himself so much that he just had to do everything wrong and make all of it their fault. The first time he had ever been that wrong in a history of a life gone wrong. The first time he couldn't decide whether to pray for life or death. The first time he went so numb that he forgot who and where he was.

He slumps on the sofa – one he'd bought for Lisa with his last pound from the government hush money after Canary Wharf – and plays it over in his mind. She only saw it once when he smuggled her in for a night before her new accommodations were ready.

And then it hits him that even though she was only in his flat once, she's everywhere, along with all of his wasted effort and fucking useless hope. There are pictures everywhere. She was responsible for all of them, either snapping them herself or making him or one of her friends do it. They made him cringe, at first – a sort of visual clutter that he never could stand – but she loved them, so he brought them all with him from her flat when they fled London.

At first, the photos were a sort of lifeline – a reminder of his purpose when he couldn't block out the horror of what Lisa was going through. But now.... Now he recognises another reason why he stayed at the Hub as often as possible.

The buzzer eats into his grey reverie and he gets up and lets the caller into the building and opens his door. He doesn't know who it is, though he can guess, and he can't be bothered. If it's a serial killer, it might be good if he was the target, but hope is obscene.

The footsteps are familiar, as is the sound of coat hem swirling against the door.

Ianto doesn't look up. "You shouldn't be here."

"Oh, yeah? Well, neither should you. You're supposed to be at the gym taking out your frustrations on a punching bag, as of half an hour ago."

"They're closed. Gas leak."

"I know. I went there first, when I heard." Jack sits on the other end of the sofa.

"I came straight back here."

"Good."

"Is that all, sir?"

"You're not on the job, so you don't have to call me 'sir'."

"But I am following your orders or getting shot, sir."

"Good point. But don't."

"Yes, si—Jack." The name sticks in his throat. "Why did you come? You've got cameras following me everywhere, I'm under house arrest and it's not your day."

"I thought you might need a punching bag."

Ianto looks up.

Jack holds his arms out to the sides.

Ianto feels more than a bit sick.

"Trust me, I can take it."

Ianto shakes his head. "I'll just go to the gym as soon as they're open again."

Jack stands up and braces himself in an open spot.

"This is a test, isn't it?"

Jack beckons with hands and body. "Come on, Ianto. You know it's what you want to do."

 _Yes!_ And "No."

"What if I order you to do it?"

Ianto wants so much to stand up to do this, to face Jack and his fucking loyalty test, but he knows he'll lose it if he does. "Then you'll have to shoot me, sir."

"Hey, stand up and face me like a man! You did before."

"And I lost _everything_!" He realises that he's on his feet. "'There's always something left to live for,' you said. How would you know that when you've never lost your fucking soul?"

Jack drops his hands and for a terrible, frozen moment, he looks just as he did when he ordered Ianto to kill Lisa. "Do monsters have souls in your world?"

In the middle of the spear of guilt lancing through him, Ianto sees a world that isn't grey for the first time in many months. "I'm—I shouldn't have said that." He wants a glass of water, but won't go near the kitchenette because there are too many weapons in it. He sits again, on the end of the sofa farthest from Jack. "I shouldn't have said any of it." He lets his eyes drop. "I shouldn't have done any of it."

There is a very long pause.

Jack is in the kitchenette, running water.

He sets a glass down on the other end of the coffee table and another one in front of Ianto.

He sets three white pills of different sizes and shapes in a row beside the glass.

Ianto looks up.

"I'll let you choose how much you want to forget."

"What if I don't want to forget any of it?"

Jack shrugs, which makes his Webley just visible under his coat.

Ianto can't help a very small, very grey smirk. "For someone who thinks subtlety's overrated, you can be very good at it."

"You think so?" The hopeful light in Jack's eyes is enough to make Ianto go spare.

"I don't want to forget any of it, Jack. So..." He nods at the weapon.

There is another long pause. The sun is beginning to set.

Jack sits near the other end of the sofa. "Tell me about her."

For the first time, Ianto Jones reveals himself to Jack Harkness.

*****

It's been hard, and he still hurts so much that sometimes he wishes he'd chosen the retcon, but Ianto knows that he's been forgiven. At least by Jack. He won't chance things with the others yet, but he doesn't care right now because Jack forgave him this morning. Jack forgave him even though he'd been there three hours earlier than allowed. He still can't bear to go home. His flat isn't home. Jack didn't seem to know he'd spent all night at the Hub in a cell. He's scared to confess it, because he's starting to feel like he might live again, but he knows he must. Jack forgave him. It's a first, both for him and for Jack.

Two days into his newly forgiven state, he has just finished putting the workstation area to rights when the cog door alarm sounds. He fights a moment of panic and guilt, reminding himself that he's the only one there, and it's his job to monitor the facility as well as the workstations. He makes sure that he's sitting at Tosh's.

But when they come through the door, the silence is ugly.

Ianto vacates Tosh's chair immediately. He doesn't bolt for the archives, but he does find a way to fade into the woodwork. He tries to ask Tosh what happened, but she shakes her head and pushes past him to get her things.

Gwen and Owen are having nothing to do with anyone, especially Jack. The team are gone within minutes, leaving a frigid silence around him.

"I suppose you want to leave, too."

Ianto un-fades. "Is there any reason I should?"

"You know what happened."

"Tosh told me, and I heard some of it over the comms."

Jack deflates, revealing the dashing of a hope. "Just go home, Ianto."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to hear your side."

"Why?" Jack's tone is tetchy, which means that he is close to giving in or lashing out.

"Because it sounded like you did the right thing, and I don't understand why everyone's so cross about it."

Jack crosses his arms. "I gave a child to the faeries."

"What would've happened if you hadn't?"

Jack's facial muscles work and then his eyes drop and he shakes his head.

"Let me guess: the world would've ended?"

"Something like that."

There is a long silence, and it is as if a door stands ajar between them. If it closes, it will be permanent. Ianto stands at the brink of that threshold, knowing that his next choice will direct the rest of his life. "Sometimes a bit of company can help," he offers. "You know, friendly face, even if you don't want to talk about it."

Jack looks at Ianto for a long moment as though gearing up to ask if there's another Cyberman in the basement, and the tension becomes almost unbearable. But Jack relents and unfolds his arms. "I don't suppose you can get that thing to make hot chocolate?"

Ianto does his best not to goggle, but he knows he's failed miserably when Jack smiles.

"Hey, don't knock it! There's nothing like a really good hot chocolate with a jigger or two of twenty-five year old Macallan in it."

"Owen's got some Horlicks."

"So that'd be a 'no', then."

"Yep."

Jack sighs.

Ianto makes a note to acquire a recipe as soon as he's free. "I have some dark chocolate if you have the whisky."

"Where's the pterodactyl?"

"Out hunting."

Jack nods and walks towards his office.

Ianto hesitates, recognising a last chance to flee. But when Jack's head turns the smallest fraction, pain seeping out, Ianto collects the chocolate and follows.

As Jack sits, Ianto reaches for the decanter, but is stopped by Jack's hand on his. "Not this time." Jack pulls a bottle of Macallan from his desk and waggles it. "Only way to eat chocolate."

"Don't let Myfanwy hear you say that." Ianto opens the wrapper on the chocolate bar, breaking a perfect line of segments from the end as Jack pours the whisky.

"Myfanwy?" Jack's eyes widen. "You named it! I told you not to name it!"

Ianto shrugs. "We were already attached." He sips the whisky. "Besides, it was either that or shoot her."

Jack freezes, whisky glass an inch from his lips. "Have you made up with her, yet?"

Ianto nods. "It wasn't her fault."

Jack hesitates, and then touches his glass to Ianto's.

Ianto drinks, closing his eyes on the sight of the amber liquid passing between Jack's lips. He savours the dark, oaken smoke of the whisky as he imagines those lips on his own.

"Hey, don't forget the chocolate!"

Ianto comes back to himself and swallows. "Sorry ... I thought I left it on the desk."

"You did." Jack hands him a strip of it. "But your whisky's almost gone." He nods at the glass.

"Oh." He looks at Jack from hooded eyes. "How would you suggest I consume these items, Sir?"

Jack has just bitten off a piece of chocolate and is chewing it. He stops for a second, as though Ianto's question has just registered, and picks up his whisky glass. Winking at Ianto, he raises the glass and takes a mouthful of the liquid, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing the lot.

"You haven't done this before, have you?"

Jack grimaces. "No, not really." He coughs.

Ianto swallows the last of his whisky slowly and lets a bit of chocolate melt in his mouth while the flavour permeates his senses. It's wonderful. Smoky and sensuous and masculine. He leans back in his chair.

"Good combination, huh?" Jack's voice is soft and low, but it doesn't reach his smile, which doesn't reach his eyes.

"Mm." Ianto swallows the last of the chocolate. He wouldn't want it every day, but he's not telling Jack that. Not until he can feel good about being smug again.

"She wanted to go."

Ianto looks up again.

"Jasmine. She wanted to go with them." Jack shakes his head and stares far away, as though he's looking through the structure of the world into time itself.

Ianto can't remember seeing Jack this sad. "I, er, did some research on her," he offers.

Jack is silent.

"She seemed to enjoy her own company. Never really got on with other children. Never had any human friends. She got bullied in school." Ianto pauses. "Maybe they offered her something she thought she couldn't find here."

"She'll live forever." The words are squeezed from Jack, as if he _knows_.

Ianto knows that Jack has already lived longer than the average Torchwood agent, and that he can recuperate from wounds that would put most anyone else in hospital or worse. But the questions flooding him now make his mind go blank. "I think you did the right thing."

"Never reassure," says Jack, absently.

Ianto frowns. "From what little I heard, the faeries said she was the last chosen one?"

"Yes."

"Which means that they'll leave us alone for ... at least a while, right?"

"Forever."

"And Jasmine wanted to be with them."

"Yes."

"And the faeries would've killed more people if you hadn't allowed her to go."

"Yeah."

"Then in what way am I reassuring you?"

Jack's sigh is a tetchy mixture of annoyance, exasperation and grudging amusement that curls his lips in a way that lasers Ianto's brain all over again. The moment fades. "It's not that simple."

Ianto turns the empty glass in his hands, watching the stubborn drops release their hold and chase around the bottom edge. "It never is."

"The others hate me. They'll never trust me, now."

Ianto looks up at Jack. "They'll come around," he says, quietly.

Jack meets Ianto's eyes with an indecipherable look. "I hope so," he says at last. "Go home. Get some sleep."

Ianto feels the colour drain from his face.

"Or are you planning to spend yet another night in a cell? You know, I can show you a better one than the one you've been using. And you're kind of cute when you snore. At least, I think that's you snoring. The sound doesn't work on that camera."

Ianto tries to sit down and stumbles when he finds he already is. "I—" He swallows and stands, pulling out his security pass. "You'll be wanting this. As you know, I don't have a weapon whilst on probation. If you're offering a choice, I prefer execution to retcon—"

"I'm not terminating you, Ianto. Not yet, anyway. Just tell me why you're disobeying my order not to stay here once you've been dismissed."

Ianto places the security pass on Jack's desk and feels his ears go crimson. "I'm not sure I can."

"Try."

"It's ... pathetic."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"It's just ... I've ... I can't ... there's ... too many memories of her. Sometimes I can't even open the door to the flat."

Jack softens. "Go on."

"There are photos everywhere. Her favourite books, her favourite clothes, favourite sheets. I packed them all up when I got her out of London. I bought a sofa she'd love for when she was healed. She never even lived there." Ianto's heart is thudding so hard that Jack must be able to hear it. He swipes at the moisture on his face. "She was only there for one night."

Jack rises and walks around the desk, half-sitting on the edge of it as he hands Ianto the security pass. "Sounds like you need a new flat."

Ianto nods. "I ... haven't been able to think about it properly." He wishes he could stop the tears, but knows it's pointless.

Jack sighs as he rises and invades Ianto's personal space. He hesitates a fraction of a second before taking Ianto in his arms.

Ianto isn't sure what to do with the fact that this isn't a prelude to sex. He's never been good at being comforted. And he isn't sure why his arms seem to be making their way around Jack.

"You're going to sort this out." Jack's voice is soft and sure against Ianto's ear. "Think of it as an added condition of your probation."

Ianto can only nod against Jack's cheek and shoulder.

Jack shifts enough to kiss him, closed-mouthed but soft, lingering just longer than necessary. Just long enough to offer renewed – continued – interest.

Ianto accepts it – returns it. Wishes he could stop. Wouldn't stop for the world.

Jack pulls back. "You can stay tonight, if you want."

Ianto is surprised by the wisp of pleading in the offer. He doesn't think Jack meant it to show. "Where do you want me?"

Jack smiles at him, impossibly close. "Ya really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't want to break any more rules."

Jack nods after a moment. "Come on." He drapes an arm around Ianto's back, hand resting on his shoulder.

It's warm and comforting, and Ianto wonders about the feeling of disappointment at the possibility of sex vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

Jack leads him one step to the hole in the floor three feet from where they were standing. "Best bed in the house. It's all yours for the night."

Ianto swallows, waiting for another boot to drop.

" _All_ yours, Ianto. I won't need it tonight."

"You haven't slept the last two days."

Jack's hand stiffens on Ianto's shoulder. "If you know that, then I'm not the only one with an insomnia problem."

"I always did have a problem with concrete beds." Ianto gazes at the dishevelled mattress, at this moment the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "You sure you don't mind?"

Jack chuckles. "I'm sure. Just budge over if I join you later. All this talk of sleep is making me tired."

Unexpected warmth infuses Ianto at that thought. He feels himself flush again. "Alright."

Jack turns Ianto towards him. "Sex with the boss is not part of the rules for any Torchwood employee. Not while I'm boss, anyway." He searches Ianto's eyes.

"I know." Ianto leans forward slowly and kisses Jack when he doesn't object. It is sexy and sweet and new without the cover of Lisa, and it scares him to death because for the first time, Ianto Jones cannot deny that he wants Jack Harkness.

But he's going to keep trying.

*****

Today is the first time Ianto has faced his fears of life and death. When Lisa killed him, he died with a sense of relief that it was so quick. When the cannibal had the meat cleaver at his throat, the thought flashing through his abject terror was the reality that Lisa had relieved him of his duty to her and responsibility to the others. For the first time in his life, he came face to face with his will to live.

And now, he sits alone in a flat he can't bear with two cracked ribs and a concussion, surrounded by memorabilia he can no longer avoid. He also has the unwelcome opportunity to examine his thoughts and conscience.

He is not brave. He does not like how he behaved with Tosh when they were trapped alone and discovered the gory freezer. He derives some satisfaction from giving her the opportunity to escape later, but doesn't know that he could manage the hero thing again, knowing how fucking painful it is to be kicked and beaten half to death. And all of this reminds Ianto that he has never felt so terrified, so abandoned and so inundated by physical pain all in one day.

Not even when his father pushed him too hard on the swing and broke his leg.

Rib pain is worse than leg pain, he decides for the tenth time as he reaches for another photo to pack into the box. He's been at this for two hours and has only managed to pack six pictures.

He is sitting on the sofa when the buzzer sounds. It hurts like hell to get up with the kicked knee, the bruised kidney, the cracked ribs and the headache that won't go away on the painkiller he's allowed, so he just buzzes his visitor in with a "Door's open, Tosh." He hopes that he can persuade her to help with packing up the photos as his ribs protest yet again. He also hopes that Jack and Owen saw Gwen home all right. He could lie to A&E about having a neighbour see him through his concussion, but her shotgun wound looked grim enough that she couldn't.

"You know, you really should stop doing that."

Ianto whips around at the sound of Jack's voice and nearly passes out from the cacophony of agony from every injury site.

"You wanna move slowly when you've got that many wounds."

Ianto is back to hating Jack, or would be, if he were strong enough. "What are you doing here?"

"Wow, you really are hostile when you're in this place."

"Everything hurts. What did you expect?"

"For you to be following doctor's orders and resting." Jack puts a take-away bag down on the kitchenette counter. "Like Tosh is doing, because I insisted."

"Is she okay?"

"Mostly, for someone who's been beaten by cannibals, but she's in no shape to do concussion duty." Jack gives Ianto a pointed look.

"That bit about waking up a concussion victim every hour is a myth. I'll be fine on my own."

Jack looks around at the pictures on the floor. "Yeah, because you're always such a slob." He gathers up the twenty-two fallen photos and puts them in the box within thirty seconds.

Ianto's mix of fury and relief is almost too much to bear.

"And by the way, it's not a myth. Not entirely. You shouldn't be alone the first night with a grade three concussion. And since you fibbed your way out of A&E, you're stuck with me. Unless you want to do the sensible thing and go back there."

"No."

"Right." Jack goes to the kitchen and runs the tap.

Ianto hears water glasses being filled, and hates the reminder of the last time they were doing this. Just a few weeks ago, wasn't it? So he's not surprised when one of the glasses appears in front of him along with a white pill that he doesn't recognise. He looks up at Jack and his head spins.

Jack sits next to him. "It's a present from Owen. It's supposed to prevent brain bleeding and swelling. It's also a fantastic painkiller."

Ianto swallows it immediately.

"Thought you might appreciate that."

Ianto thinks about smiling, but that is waylaid by dizziness.

Before he knows what's happening, he wakes up in a bed in which he hasn't slept for four months.

"It also knocks you out for a few hours."

Ianto's head turns, without pain.

Jack is stretched out beside him, fully dressed and reading a book on top of the covers. "Gives me the opportunity to give you a shot for the bones. They'll heal quicker, now."

"And you couldn't have given that when I was conscious?"

"It's better this way. Trust me."

"Should I knock you out if you ever need that drug?" Ianto asks, fervently.

"Um, yeah, though it's complicated...."

"I think my headache's coming back."

"Really?" Jack is all business, snapping his book shut.

"Sarcasm. Thanks. For the medicine. I do feel better."

"Good. Then I get to ask you a few things."

"Could we do the debriefing at work tomorrow?"

"Not this part of it. Why did you say your last snog was with Lisa?" There is curiosity and perhaps hurt in it, but not the anger that had been there when it happened.

"I ... wasn't sure you wanted the others to know we've been ... doing that." It's the closest thing to the truth that Ianto's willing to admit.

Jack looks at him with the same expression he wore in Brynblaidd. The one Ianto still can't bear.

"It's too soon." Ianto says it so quietly that he almost doesn't hear it.

"It didn't seem like that the other night."

Ianto agrees, but can't speak.

Something in Jack closes. "Look, like I said, I don't require sex from my employees. But I do require truth. I don't care if you tell the others that we've snogged—"

"You weren't exactly forthcoming about it when you were asked."

"That's because you weren't the last person I kissed."

Ianto's mind reels and chooses the least threatening possibility. "So you snogged a non-human life form?"

"Well at least you agree that they're people, too."

"How many legs did it have?"

"He had two legs, two arms, one torso, one head, all the usual accoutrements of human-based shape except for six digits on each visible extremity. And deep kissing is their way of greeting a diplomatic liaison."

"Did you enjoy it?" Ianto realises instantly that he would do anything not to have said those words.

"Ask me that again the next time we're in bed together, and I might just tell you. Right now, let's talk about trust and how you're going to stop lying to at least one person in your life. And that person would be...?"

Ianto feels sick. "You."

"Yeah. So. What did your father do, again?"

"He was a mas—" Ianto sighs at the expression on Jack's face. "He did alterations at Debenham's. He wanted to be a tailor."

"So what stopped him?"

"He was apprenticed to a man on Savile Row, once. But then one of the more important customers didn't like his stitching on a cuff hem."

Jack settles back against the wall, arms folded. "So they fired him?"

"Yeah, but not for the stitching."

"Oh?"

"Dad told the man that he was wrong and brought out the measuring tape to prove it."

"I thought they only gave warnings to apprentices who did that. At least, the first time...."

"Not when the client is the Prince of Wales."

Jack winces. "Ouch! Fired and blacklisted, then?"

Ianto nods and rubs his head. "Have you had enough truth, yet?"

Jack smiles, and it very nearly reaches his eyes. "Yeah, that'll do for now. Besides, I verified that story, already. Odd thing, a master tailor letting an apprentice get his hands on a suit for royalty."

Ianto falls asleep during Jack's musings, oddly lifted by telling someone the truth about his dad and more than a little disturbed that he's glad it was Jack. He dreams about Jack alternately kissing and punching a six-fingered Prince Charles. In his dream, he begs for retcon, even though he can't scream.

*****

Jack finds Ianto after his talk with Tosh in front of the Millennium Centre. "How's the Rift?"

"Quiet. Nothing new since you left." Ianto wonders about the agitation in Jack's step.

"Good. Come with me." Jack turns on his heel without waiting for Ianto's opinion.

Ianto follows Jack down to the firing range. "What am I doing h-here?"

Jack turns to him, eyes nearly as lifeless as when Ianto had first seen him in Yvonne Hartman's office. "Getting a refresher course in how to handle a weapon. I should have given you one before Brynblaidd, but I got lazy. Now that your ribs have healed enough, it's time." He hands Ianto a Glock. "Let's see you put six bullets in the target's head."

Ianto turns side-on to the target and fires six times.

"Wow! That's pretty good, especially since the angle of your hand is off. Try straightening your wrist – no, not like that. Here...." Jack moves up behind him and fits them together. "Drop your shoulder a bit."

Ianto can feel Jack's hand on his shoulder, and lets it sink to where it should be in that firing position.

"Yeah, that's it. Now sight along your arm...." Jack draws his hand along Ianto's arm. "Good...."

Ianto lets his arm slot into the configuration Jack's hand and arm dictate. He tries hard not to think of the heat of Jack against him. Or that damned scent....

"Now your wrist. See how it's pointing out?" Jack cups Ianto's hand in his own. "Relax."

Ianto tries to comply. That voice in his ear, though, and that hand against his own, and that _fucking_ scent....

"Relax, Ianto."

There is nothing anyone could do, Ianto thinks, but obey that voice when it's swirling in one's ear like that. He relaxes. Unfortunately, that means taking in a breathful of Jack's scent.

"That's it. Now hand like this...." Jack supports Ianto's hand and manoeuvres it into position. "Good! Now stay just like that and aim right for the centre of the head." He stays against Ianto's back but takes his hand away.

Ianto concentrates on keeping his arm and hand in place and tries not to think of Jack anchoring him. He focuses and squeezes the trigger six more times. He wonders where five of the bullets went and checks the clip and the barrel while the target moves towards them.

"Wow! We need to get you out on field work more often." Jack presents the target to Ianto. "See that?"

"I see one bullet hole, dead centre. Where'd my cluster go?"

"Look closer at the hole."

Ianto does. "It's irregular and a bit too big."

"Exactly. Which is why Torchwood has a new sharp-shooter."

"You mean...."

"All six bullets through one hole with just one little hand position correction. Nice work, Ianto." Jack shifts slightly against Ianto, which seems to release more of that intoxicating scent into Ianto's nostrils. It also reveals that Jack is hard.

Ianto spins around and pins Jack to the weapons table with a sound snog.

Jack breaks the kiss. "You sure this isn't too soon?"

"No, but I don't care." He assaults Jack's mouth again, and this time Jack participates.

Ianto unbuttons Jack's shirt, kissing his way quickly down the taut torso, revelling in the contact with perfect skin as he reaches the trouser waistband and unfastens it. He never thought he'd put his mouth on another man's cock, but he is unable to think of anything but consuming Jack.

Jack's breath hitches as Ianto tugs at the trousers. He shoves the braces off his shoulders and the trousers fall to puddle at his feet.

Ianto kisses the outline of Jack's erection through the tight knit of the pants confining it. It is hot and hard. It throbs against his lips, bringing his own dick to full, aching hardness. He cannot resist the urge to mouth further down, feeling, smelling, imagining, listening as Jack moans. He mouths the place where Jack's cock and balls join, breathing moist heat onto it.

"Ianto..." It is a plea with just that hint of dangerous impatience that Jack uses to keep people in line.

It inflames Ianto, who latches onto a ball whilst pinning Jack's interfering hand against the table.

Jack acquiesces, moaning as Ianto snakes two fingers inside the leg band and strokes his groin just an inch to the left of his balls. "Ianto!"

Ianto breathes his way back up the line of Jack's hard-on and pulls the pants carefully down. Inches away from it, Ianto gets his first full view of the length and thickness of Jack's cock. He wonders for a moment if he'll be able to stretch around it, how much he'll be able to take in, if he'll choke. But then Jack moans as Ianto is breathing on him, and all he wants is to taste the precome welling at Jack's tip – salty and scented with Jack's musk – and feel the head of Jack's cock in his mouth.

It takes him a moment to get used to having something that size in his mouth, especially when the object in question is twitching, thus arousing him to the point of insanity. He licks and sucks experimentally, relishing the moans and pleas from above.

Jack, to Ianto's surprise, restrains himself from thrusting into Ianto's mouth. His groin and thigh muscles are tense. So are his abdominals when Ianto strokes upwards, feasting his hands on taut, quivering flesh.

Ianto moans around Jack's cock, and immediately feels a responding sheen of sweat as he pulls his hands down and around Jack's ample, gorgeous arse. He tries relaxing his throat and taking more of Jack, but can only manage another inch before he has to stifle a gag.

"Don't worry," Jack pants from above. "Just ... keep doing ... THAT! Oh...!"

Ianto squeezes Jack's arse cheeks and makes a spiral, sucking _lick_ around Jack's cock head. He is rewarded by Jack thrusting forward uncontrollably and hitting the back of his mouth.

"Sorry!"

Ianto redoubles his efforts, settling into a fast rhythm of head motion and licking and humming and swirling—

"Coming!"

Ianto sucks harder and flutters his tongue against Jack's slit.

"Ianto!" Jack comes.

It's far more than Ianto had expected. He swallows what he can, but it's a strong taste of bitter saltiness, and it's hard to control the swallowing around something so big. But he doesn't let go, because he knows how wonderful it is to be held in someone's mouth at that moment.

He holds Jack's cock in his mouth until Jack pulls it out. He wipes his face as best he can with his hand, all too aware of the ache that still remains in his own dick.

Jack reaches down and pulls him gently to his feet. "That was fantastic." He kisses Ianto, slow and sweet. "And for a beginner, it was spectacular." He kisses Ianto again, licking a forgotten trail of come from the corner of Ianto's mouth. "Can't wait to taste us together." With a suggestive smile, he begins to undo Ianto's tie.

Ianto grasps Jack's hands in his own. "No." He swallows. "I want you."

"I think that can be arranged," says Jack, after a moment.

Ianto lunges for him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jack grasps his shoulders and holds him back. "Not here. Not for a first time."

"I don't care." Ianto is hoarse with need.

"Well, I do. And so will you. Trust me, this wants a bed."

"I can't wait that long."

"Yes, you can. And I've got two words for you: refractory period." With that, Jack pulls up his pants and trousers, grins and runs up the stairs. "Race you!"

"Bastard," Ianto mutters. It takes him a moment before he is physically able to follow Jack without pain. He's glad there's nobody else in the Hub.

When at last they're facing each other in Jack's bunker, Jack pauses, searching Ianto's eyes. "You want me how?"

"I want to fuck you."

"Okay, I sort of figured that." Jack's shirt is hanging as though it were a rag, one side caught haphazardly in his belt, the other dangling free. His trousers are unfastened, exposing his pants. His belt is fastened, forming the base of an upside-down triangle of white that accentuates his reawakening interest. His braces are hanging down. It's a wonder that the man didn't get caught in one or both of them in his rush up the stairs from the firing range. One nipple is exposed. It is hard. And his face is – worried.

Ianto hadn't expected worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just ... you know I'm not a hearts-and-flowers kind of guy, right? I mean, you're hot as hell and I want you, but I'm not going to go picking out curtains with you tomorrow, or anything. You know that, right?"

Ianto rolls his eyes. "I had sussed that, yes. And even if you were, it really is too soon for me. Okay?"

"Works for me." Only the worry is still there on Jack's face.

"Look, could we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

"What way is that?"

"Just shut up and have sex? This is Torchwood, after all."

Jack grins and removes Ianto's tie before attacking the buttons on his shirt. "Works for me."

Ianto devours Jack in a hungry kiss as he removes the dangling shirt and lets it drop on the floor. He pushes Jack to the bed, stripping him naked by the time his own shirt is off. He reaches for his own belt.

"Hey! You had your turn, now let me have mine!" Jack pulls Ianto down onto the bed with him. It's crowded with two, but it doesn't matter because before Ianto can protest, Jack is kissing and tasting his skin, from collarbone to nipple to sternum to the sensitive places between newly (mostly) healed ribs. Jack is surprisingly tender about it. Ianto was expecting it to hurt, but it doesn't.

Ianto feels himself flush under Jack's touch, and gets harder as he feels Jack's naked body moving down his own part-clothed one, touching, tasting, kissing, caressing, nibbling, unclothing. He is beginning to regret not letting Jack suck him when he feels his last sock being pulled off. And then all thought is destroyed when Jack sucks Ianto's right big toe into his mouth. Ianto cries out and squeezes the base of his cock to keep from coming.

"Ooh, very interesting! I'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe for when you're tied up." Jack grins up at him and kisses his foot. "But for right now, I want to feel that huge cock of yours inside me." Jack crawls up Ianto's body, dragging the moistening tip of his fully erect cock slowly over hypersensitive skin – marking him with mouth and prick. "When was the last time you had a micro body scan?"

"Yesterday, after the weevil ... incident. All clear. You?"

"This morning. All clear. Do you want a condom?"

"Been with anyone since the scan?"

"Nope. Haven't even kissed a diplomat."

"Have you snogged Owen?"

"Hey, don't kill the mood!"

"Then no, I don't. Do you want me to wear one?"

"It's completely up to you." Jack hands Ianto a tube of lube. "I do want this, though. Besides, it kills everything worth worrying about."

"Oh, erm, of course. Um, I've done some research, but—"

Jack squeezes some onto Ianto's first finger and rolls over onto his side, facing away from Ianto. "Just stroke me a little and put that inside me when I relax enough."

Ianto squeezes himself into position behind Jack and only now realises that this is the first time they've been naked together. It's also the first time he's been so close to Jack's unclothed back, and the vulnerability of it strikes him every bit as much as the perfect skin.

Ianto could lose himself in worshipping that skin. He touches it, strokes it, smoothes his free fingers over it, kisses Jack's strong shoulder and long neck.

"I meant stroke me where you're gonna poke me."

Ianto bites Jack's shoulder blade. "What did you say about killing the mood?"

Jack groans and leans back into Ianto's touch. "Never mind. What you're doing is—"

Ianto nips Jack's side.

"—Perfect!"

Ianto smiles and starts peppering bites and nips over Jack's warming back and arms. Somewhere around the mid-back, he reaches down, letting his fingers find their way between Jack's arse cheeks. He realises that if he ever gets another chance at this, he must spend at least half a good hour feasting on Jack's arse, but he's stretched himself beyond his limit of endurance and strokes the small opening until he feels it give way a little. Not thinking too hard about what he's doing, as he's near breaking point, he pushes his finger inside, marvelling at the way Jack draws him in. This, the books hadn't told him to expect.

"Oh, god!yes.... Yes, that's it! Just get it in there ... mmm ... god, you're hot! Ianto! I want you inside me so much ... can't wait ... hurry up!"

Ianto bites Jack's upper arm. "Lube."

Jack hands him the tube. "I'm ready."

"Just give me a moment...." Ianto calms himself enough to be able to touch his dick with a handful of cold lube – a near impossible thing when faced with a writhing, begging Jack. He'll never be sure quite how he did it, but he does, and then he's positioning himself at Jack's opening.

"Oh, yes! Take me, already!" The begging in the tone makes up for – or rather, enhances – the impatient words.

Ianto pushes in, remembering all the instructions he's read about going slowly, only to be pulled in nearly as quickly as his finger had been.

Jack pushes back against him, into his arms, as Ianto drives himself into Jack.

And then there is that glorious moment when Ianto is fully seated inside Jack, and must prevent himself from coming right then and there. He can do this, even though he's never been enclosed so tightly, or in such a heated sheath. "Jack...." It's a whisper.

Jack holds perfectly still, as if he's read Ianto's desperate need. "It's all right. You feel marvellous inside me."

Ianto tightens his arms around Jack and kisses his neck. "You feel so good...."

After a moment, just when Ianto starts to feel that he could move again, Jack nudges backwards even more.

Ianto bites Jack's shoulder, thrusting involuntarily.

Jack reaches around to pull Ianto's arse closer. "Touch me...."

Ianto pulls back until he's almost out and thrusts in again, reaching for Jack's cock. For a few moments, he sets up a rhythm, just enjoying the sensation of thrusting into _Jack_ , of engulfing and being engulfed.

"Ianto!"

Ianto strokes Jack's cock, relishing the feel of the slick head against his thumb even as he thrusts into Jack. He shifts and reaches to kiss Jack's face – such a beautiful, handsome face.

Jack turns to answer the kiss and their lips glide and slip against one another as their tongues meet, and it's too much too fast too perfect and goes out of control so fast.

Ianto thrusts wildly, and Jack pushes back with abandon.

Jack fucks Ianto's hand and Ianto buries his mouth against Jack's neck.

And then, as Jack squeezes down on Ianto's cock, Ianto cries out and comes.

Two seconds later, Jack cries something Ianto doesn't understand and his semen floods Ianto's hand.

There are aftershocks for both of them. Ianto has never experienced this strong an orgasm, and he doesn't think he'll ever get enough. The thought sends him thrusting into Jack again, hard, and he feels another spurt from himself and one from Jack against his fingers. He doesn't want to leave. It's far too good where he is.

Jack slowly relaxes and settles back against him. He turns his head and captures Ianto's mouth, kissing him as deeply as their position will allow.

Ianto could swear that he experiences one last contraction, and Jack's smile against his lips says that maybe he has.

"Are you finished, yet?" The question is filled with humour and affection and Jack at his very best.

Ianto thrusts in one last time, just to be sure, and feels one last twitch before his dick is so sensitive that he dare not move. "Yeah, just ... let me...."

"Take your time. I'm doing just fine."

"Should I ... what about my hand?"

"Just leave it where it is for a moment?" Jack asks, ruefully.

"No problem." Ianto starts to relax against Jack. "Don't think I can stay awake, though."

"That's okay, neither can I. And Ianto, this feels really good."

"Same here."

*****

Ianto becomes aware that they have separated when he feels Jack leaving the small bed some hours later. He isn't fond of the feeling of loss that occurs when it happens. Having spent a few nights in Jack's quarters of late, he knows that Jack doesn't sleep much, and knew he would most likely leave. He rolls over and sighs his way back to sleep.

When he feels the bed dip some while later, Ianto starts awake.

"Shhh.... Go back to sleep." Jack spoons him, settling a naked arm over him.

Ianto fits himself back against the warmth of Jack, grasping his hand. He turns his head. "Are you all right?"

There is a pause, and then Jack extricates his hand to cup Ianto's face into a long, languorous kiss. "Yeah. How about you?"

Ianto wishes he could see Jack's eyes in the dark, wonders if there's life in them now. He strokes Jack's face. "I'm fine."

There is another long, deep kiss. "Then let's sleep."


End file.
